Compare
by MD
Summary: Toraten. He was the only one who'd known Goten before knowing Gokuu. To him, Gokuu had Goten's face—not the other way around. M/M undertones.


**title:** Compare  
**series:** Dragonball Z  
**pairing:** Torankusu/Goten  
**count:** 1980  
**notes:** PG; _He was the only one who'd known Goten before knowing Gokuu. To him, Gokuu had Goten's face--not the other way around._ M/M undertones.

(07/22/07) For M, who inspired this and most of my personal canon. Set in 780 AD; Toriyama admits that Goten had an identity crisis, but he never went into detail about it...

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**compare:** _v._ to put (things etc) side by side in order to see to what extent they are the same or different.

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He knew something was wrong the moment that Goten appeared at his window, unannounced, in broad daylight. It wasn't so much that the younger boy had failed to call ahead, or that he'd decided to skip the front door. In all their years of friendship, it wasn't strange for either one of them to make the cross-continental trip at the drop of a _zeni_—and completely fail to mention it to anyone else. But it was never at a time that his mother might miss him. And absolutely _never_ at a time when people could plainly see him floating outside his best friend's third floor bedroom.

Fortunately, they were beyond formalities and eye contact served well as consent. Within moments, the young Son eased the window open and let himself inside. But Torankusu hardly had time to consider damage control, as Goten completely skipped the greetings and strode past to throw himself onto the bed. Watching this, the older teen grimaced. He was sulking, which meant that something was _seriously_ wrong.

Most people didn't realize that about Goten; they tended to dismiss him as soft and needy. Torankusu knew better, though. He knew how proud the younger halfling was—knew he never cried for real in front of _anyone_. He liked to work you over until you gave in to whatever he wanted; but they both knew that tears didn't work on _him_. So to be here in this condition... Few things could do that to Goten. And that narrowed the list quite a bit. Forgoing the security check, he set aside his textbooks and settled onto the mattress next to his friend. "Hey buddy," he said lightly, "How's it going?"

"He left again."  
"Oh."

It was funny how three little words explained everything; he already knew all the details without asking. He didn't _have_ to. It was a story _years_ in the making. Gokuu was horrifically unreliable unless he was running away from home—_that_ he did practically like clockwork. And always with the same consequences. It was a wonder that after all these years, Chichi still hadn't developed a cure or compromise.

Simply taking her anger out on Goten wouldn't make her husband any less vagrant.

"I'm sorry," Torankusu offered lamely. It really wasn't his place to apologize, but for as much as they relied on each other, he couldn't help feeling as though he were letting Goten down somehow. He was supposed to be some sort of genius, but this was always that _one thing_ that he couldn't fix—because it had nothing at all to do with them.

He placed a warm hand between the other's shoulder blades, absently fingering the thick, black spikes along the back of his neck. Not for the first time, he was forced to admit that Goten was the spitting image of his father. In some ways, that wasn't so bad; Gokuu was, after all, universally reputed for his heroism. Still, a great deal of that stemmed from his encompassing tunnel vision. No matter how you looked at it, the man was selfish to a fault. And while good-intentioned, he ultimately failed to consider anyone else's feelings. Particularly those of his wife.

The things he said, the decisions he made without her... Sometimes, one had to be reminded that the man was married and with family. He sure didn't act it. But from what everyone said, Gokuu had _always_ been that way. And when it came down to it, Gokuu did things as he saw fit, for better or worse.

For that, Goten's position was unfortunate. The kid just took so much abuse for his father's misdeeds... all because of their face. Because Gokuu could just leave and Goten couldn't. Because someone had to stay behind and pick up the pieces—to receive the backlash. Torankusu wasn't sure how much respect he would have naturally had for that man, but since his revival, he'd been directly and indirectly responsible for most of his son's problems. Sometimes, he wanted to deck him for that. Sometimes, he wanted to deck _everyone_ for that.

But he knew he was different. He was the only one who'd known Goten before knowing Gokuu. To him, Gokuu had _Goten's_ face—not the other way around. Goten was the standard; Gokuu was the anomaly. He hated when people compared them. People assumed what Goten was about, based on his father, because they looked alike—just like people wanted to tell him who _he_ was, because of _someone else_ they'd met more than ten years ago.

"I'm not him," Goten hissed into the pillows. "_I'm not_. I'm _me_."

"I know, 'Ten," he smiled for no one. It felt cold on his face. "You know I know."

That gave the younger boy pause. Slowly, he turned over and looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. "I know, I... I'm sorry—"

"Hey, don't apologize," Torankusu fought down the lump growing in his own throat. "What are best friends for, right? And we both know that that's why I'm the best one to listen, anyway. I won't ever judge you."

Goten's mouth drew tight. "Sometimes it feels like I'm taking advantage of that."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Torankusu carefully changed the subject, "but you know my stance on this whole thing. No matter what, with that face of yours, if he pisses her off enough, she's always going to call you _that_."

_Gokuu-sa._

Goten gave a sudden, harsh cry of frustration, beating his fists against the bed. "_Why_. Damnit, I _hate_ this face! I don't want it anymore!" he railed, punctuating each statement with a thump that made the mattress coils squeal and warp.

"Whoa _whoa_ there," Torankusu grabbed and held onto him, wincing when Goten bucked. He had to calm the other down _fast_ if he wanted something left to sleep on that night. "Come on, Kiddo. Take a breath—let's not get retarded."

"It's _not_!" the other gasped angrily, squirming around to grab his best friend by the hair. His fist tightened painfully and the older teen couldn't help a choked cry. The pressure of his bangs trying to separate from his scalp lanced across his head like a knife. The moment his grip went slack, however, so did Goten's. "It's not retarded," the young Son whispered unsteadily, unapologetic. "I just don't want to look like him anymore."

Torankusu was still rubbing his head when Goten pulled away entirely, walking back across the room toward the desk. There was a slight pause, followed by the soft scratch of metal against wood. Before he had time to wonder what it meant, something cold and sharp was being pressed into his hand. Blue eyes widened, for once seeming younger in the face of the other's grim determination. "Help me."

A shiver ran down his spine. He didn't know if it was fear or excitement. "Goten..."

"Please," the plea was soft and strained. "You're the only one who understands."

He was still for several seconds, mesmerized by the dangerous undercurrent and that deceptively sweet face. Nodding dumbly, he curled his hand around the blades, along with two of Goten's fingers, and tugged him back down onto the bed beside him. The smaller teen wasted no time getting situated. He turned and scooted backwards, between Torankusu's thighs, to give him better access. The other obliged him, running tentative fingertips through the dense locks along the base of his skull. Measuring. "How much?"

"All of it. I don't care."

"Yes you do," Torankusu chided, then softened. "Just tell me, okay?"

"Yeah..."

The scissors slid through Goten's hair with surprising ease; somehow, the sharp scratch of shears made it seem much softer than he remembered. The strands bunched under pressure then fell away in chunks, released, taking years of unpleasant memories away in their wake. A black halo formed around their thighs, outlining like a chalk figure on the street. Maybe Goten was dying, right now. Maybe, somewhere inside, he was too. Maybe when he was done, they could both be reborn in a new world, with new lives, as new people. "—there," he finally breathed, "That's it."

His partner opened his eyes and stared across the room, into the mirror on the wall, finding his image fascinating. Gone were the prominent, eccentric spikes unique to two people in all the world. Instead, shorter, more haphazard wisps framed his face and curled over the tops of his ears—nowhere near as normal Torankusu's trademark hairstyle, but still so much simpler. Almost forgettable, in a fashionable place like Metro West. "Wow... It's perfect," he decided, the smallest, quivering smile touching his face. "She'll never recognize me!"

"Aw, that's no good!" Torankusu's voice cut into his thoughts abruptly. Making a curious sound, Goten watched as the older boy stood, dusted himself off, and went to grab something else on the desk. There was a strange, lopsided expression on his face as he returned to kneel in front of him. It was almost... pained. "All that work is no good if she still can't recognize you. There's still one more touch..." Taking hold of Goten's shirt, he pulled the fabric taut and began to scribble down the front with a large permanent marker. The acrid smell made the younger halfbreed's eyes water and his nose crinkle.

"What are you doing?" "Making sure she knows exactly what name to say when she sees your face."

Torankusu finished and stood up, pulling Goten along so that he could get an unobstructed look in the mirror. It took him a few seconds to translate; English wasn't his first language, and though he could speak fluently, Chichi hadn't taken the same pains to ensure he could read or write it, as she had with Gohan. In big black letters, down his chest read: _GOTEN SON_.

It was... stupid.

He looked absolutely ridiculous with his swollen eyes, hair chopped all to hell, and the incredibly obvious GOTEN SON printed across his tee in cheap black ink. But somehow, he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted to change. Spinning around, he caught the other in a bear hug, his voice tight with the threat of fresh tears. "_Thank you_."

Torankusu had to bite his lip. Something about this made his own chest constrict, making him unsteady. "No, it's nothing," he mumbled politely, his arms shaking ever so slightly around the younger teen.

"Then take responsibility," Goten returned, voice husky, smile weak but showing the first hints of playfulness.

"But it was _your_ idea."  
"But you're older and smarter than me, Torankusu-kun. You're the responsible one."  
"_What_? Are you _serious_? You can't just suddenly 'remember' that when it suits you—"

His protests were cut short when a warm mouth settled over his, kissing chastely. "Please?" Goten murmured, peeking at him through lowered lashes. "Just this once?"

Torankusu stared at him mutely for several seconds before he realized what was happening. Sighing, he cracked a wry smile. "Okay, fine. I'll talk to your mom. I'll just convince her that it'll let you pass for a normal high school student—when she finally lets you go, anyway."

"You think so?" dark eyes lit with excitement.

"I know so. Now come on. Let's get you back home while I still stand a fighting chance," Torankusu grinned as Goten's grip shifted down to his left hand, tugging him along so that they could both climb out the window; if anyone asked, Capsule Corp was developing new flight technologies. He closed his eyes as they tumbled out, secure in the knowledge that even though his physical appearance had changed, his best friend still _felt_ the same. In the dark, in the back of his mind, the presence that was Goten was exactly the same as it'd always been. He was so relieved that just this once, he was willing to overlook the fact that that kid had finally managed to hustle him.

_Just this once._

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**end note:** With respect to _Journey to the West_, along with the canon _mapped_ locations of _Dragonball_ proper, my Goten lives in backwoods China and is home schooled.

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End file.
